


Mad Sounds

by goldenboy_gav



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Classic Rock, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, idk what else to tag, ooc draco
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-18 20:23:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20318968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenboy_gav/pseuds/goldenboy_gav
Summary: Finding something new was interesting, investigating corners you’d have never thought to go down and finding pleasure was exhilarating. New discoveries had kept the thoughts at bay, it was hard to find the insults under the new information you had found, they laid dormant beneath blankets of trivia but most importantly, the insults were hard to find when his soul wasn’t where it used to be.orDraco's endeavours into muggle music.





	Mad Sounds

Reforming was hard, changing one’s thought process in a matter of months would never be easy, no matter how easy it had sounded on paper. Biting your tongue to keep away the insults at bay, looking at someone and trying to prevent the first thought in your brain. Draco had not liked reformation but discovery was interesting. 

Finding something new was interesting, investigating corners you’d have never thought to go down and finding pleasure was exhilarating. New discoveries had kept the thoughts at bay, it was hard to find the insults under the new information you had found, they laid dormant beneath blankets of trivia but most importantly, the insults were hard to find when his soul wasn’t where it used to be. 

Reforming was easier when you no longer could identify with who you used to be when your heart is no longer where it was and the way you think changes. All these thoughts float and wallow in your mind but they hide behind the lights that flash everything you currently are, the ‘mudblood’ attitude disappears and the wizard superiority shrinks to the size of an atom in seconds when you find joys in the muggle world. Joys are easy to find, they are found in the pages of classic novels, found in the way that the rain hits the floor. Most importantly, joys are found in the way that music flows. 

He never believed it before, he was brought up on wizarding music only, it was mostly monotonous, all with the same themes, the same sounds. It was all women singing in soprano, lyrics about heartbreak and despair, never any true variety. Two Celestina Warbeck songs would sound so alike you wouldn’t know which was which. Music growing up was for etiquette, it was never to be listened to in your own time and only came on in rich company. He spent most of his life blind to the beauty of its potential. 

Music was almost a must in his everyday life, to the point of needing to charm a record player he had bought in Camden to be able to play while he was on school grounds. He hid his obsession from his dormmates, a strange mix of Slytherins still stuck in their ways or Gryffindors who still felt off-put by his actions. He only felt comfortable listening when the curtains were drawn and a silencio had been cast. He was too fearful to wear headphones in case his housemates caught him from any faint hums. He couldn’t afford for his father to find out his latest obsession was something meant to be “below him.” 

He had an affinity for Meat Loaf the most though. His vocals were rough in a way that made his heartstrings tug a little bit, his lyrics carried emotions that he had never understood before. Every love song he had ever head before always revolved around wizardry, bonding, everything he had never wanted. Muggles had never that way, it’s always how someone has made them feel, what they see when they’re enamoured. It was a beauty that Draco struggled to understand, he wasn’t a particularly loving person towards anyone, he was only loyal to those who he thought was fitting. His little obsession with his records was a secret, a guard to emotion. 

Well, it was a secret for a bit. 

You see, secrets are only secrets when they are kept from prying people. Secrets can only last so long when your dorm room has a Harry Potter infestation every other day, a particular Harry Potter who still sees Draco as he was in 6th year, sneaking around and hiding something. Even though he was still hiding something, he felt somewhat offended that Potter didn’t understand the basic principles of privacy, it was to the point where whenever he knew that Potter would be in his dorm that day he would quietly disappear.

The plan obviously only worked for so long. When Potter had noticed an absence whenever he went to see his friends he was suspicious again. Although the dark lord had fallen Draco was still nowhere to be seen, only showing up when he had to and never there when Potter was. Draco’s plan only fell apart because of that stupid map. 

He had found a room embedded within the old school walls, one of the few that had survived through everything his side had done. Inside there were traces of black marking, he knew that underneath the small window that he sat underneath was a splash of blood leftover, too high to reach but too low for so much effort. The room felt quite like a memorial or possibly a time capsule. The rest of the castle had been built into its previous pristine form yet this room still lingered with the age of the original castle, the bricks were slightly darker than the rest of the castle, the window had an aged frame and the glass was slightly cracked in the corners. He didn’t think anyone would be able to find the room with its door tucked behind a bookcase. 

No one was meant to know about this space he’d found. It was supposed to be him, his player and the tattered red rug that lay on the floor. The sunlight that seeped into the wall’s corner due to erosion was often welcome as well. No other sign of human life was meant to be near this room while Draco drowned himself out into the screams of _Paradise By the Dashboard Light_. As he said, meant to be. Potter had this weird way of screwing with everything Draco did after all. 

It was a cold Saturday when Potter had burst in. He clearly must have figured it was the red book on the 2nd shelf that activated the door. Draco was in the middle of _Bat Out of Hell _when he heard the rumbling of the stone. He wasn’t wearing much, a smoke riddled leather jacket that he’d found in a vintage shop down Camden, acid wash denim jeans and a strikingly green shirt. He was sat against the wall when he saw the mess of brown hair and couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Of course, Potter had found him, it was Potter after all. He felt uncomfortable knowing he was being seen in entirely muggle clothing, down to the muddy sneakers he’d been hiding under his robes for weeks. 

“Malfoy?” He asked, the music was still playing yet Draco moved to lower the volume so at least he could hear what Potter thought was so important to say to him. He made no effort to move closer when Potter walked in, he just stayed where he was on the old rug. Dust moved away from the floor every step he took into the small space where Draco had been hiding for weeks. 

“Looking for me?” Draco asked 

“You were hiding, I had to see where you were going.” 

“Please, this isn’t anything like 6th year.” 

A visible shudder went through Potter at the mention of 6th year, Draco could still feel a small burning sensation on his chest when he thought about the bathroom where he’d been cornered. That time felt so long ago. 

“This is the exact opposite of 6th year. Muggle clothes? Meat Loaf? Record Player?” He seemed interrogative now. Draco was always up to something, that was what everyone thought, even now when he went away to be able to drown himself out in the sounds he’d never heard before. He wanted to be buried under the noise of AC/DC and Def Leppard, lost in rough guitars that his parents would blanch at. 

“What about it? Can people not change, Potter?” He started sneering. He was not only being disturbed but now he was also being judged at the same time. He couldn’t stand the way he was being stared at as though he was an animal in a cage. He looked so fascinated and Draco could barely contain his anger at the thought of Potter thinking this is entertaining. 

“Sorry, I’m thinking of Sirius. God, you look so much like him.” 

“Of course I look like my own cousin Potter, it’s in our genetics.” 

“No I mean, the jacket and the player and the album you’re listening to. You just look so much like him right now.” 

He could see Potter starting to get a bit sentimental, he felt rude but at the same time, he felt intruded upon. He was curious about Potter finding him until he saw what Potter was holding. A small scrap of aged paper that seemed to be covered in footsteps. No wonder he found him. He left Potter where he was stood observing, the oaf could make his own decisions even if Draco wasn’t particularly comfortable. He just wanted to turn back to his player and change the record over to David Bowie. He didn’t have many albums, maybe 4 or 5 that he’d managed to buy with the limited muggle money he had. All Potter did was still stare at him. He turned up the volume a bit, sort of wishing he had something like a cigarette to distract his wandering hands from creasing the vinyl cases. He hated that since the manor he had always needed to keep his hands occupied, it had been a horrible anxiety trait he had picked up but he absolutely refused to take it out on the only sleeves he owned. 

When the opening notes of Let’s Dance filled the small space he heard a small humming in the background. It sounded quite distant, not fully present at the moment he was experiencing. It also sounded quite sad too, far from any person but still wanting to exist where it was. This must have been one of Sirius’ favourite songs too. 

“Potter?” Draco asked. He didn’t know what he was doing, only knew he felt he needed to do something.

“Oh sorry, it’s one of my favourites.” 

“Sit down and actually enjoy it then your dawdling is making the place look untidy,” Draco demanded, He wasn’t too sure why he even insinuated Potter should stay, the only thing they had in common was currently what they were listening to and quidditch, hardly anything yet Draco felt as though he should be staying, as though he owed it to Potter to be allowed to spend time here. 

“Do you have any misfits?” Potter asked the second Let’s Dance had finished. Draco shook his head slowly, wondering what type of music they made. If it was anything to do with Potter’s personality it was probably something aggressive, heavier than his usual taste yet he was curious. He had never extended beyond what he knew was popular, most of the musicians muggles would kick up a fuss about were all he really listened to. He was yet to delve outside of that realm. 

“You know, if you wanted to, you could come with me to Camden some time? Show me what I’m missing out on?” Draco asked quietly. He wanted to kick himself slightly, of course, Potter would say no! Why wouldn’t he? 

“What you’re missing out on?” Potter spoke under his breath. Draco barely heard it but couldn’t deny that it was definitely what he said. He forgot how strange Potter could be sometimes. 

“Potter?” 

“Oh-um, I’d love to.” 

And, for now, that was the only conversation they’d had in that room. 

\--

The thing about Camden is that it is quite intimidating. People flock with brightly coloured hair, heavy chains and massive boots. They appear to be made of spikes and black leather. Hordes of people of the same attire always appeared to be threatening and with the way the tall brick buildings surrounded him was slightly intimidating yet when he was with The Boy Who Lived, what did he have to be afraid of? 

Their first stop was a small cafe away from the crowded market, where the lights were slightly dimmed and the man behind the counter had so many facial piercings Draco couldn’t name them all. The speakers were slightly rough and played hardly any songs that Draco knew, Potter seemed to be purely in his element. He was sitting sideways on the leather chair, back against the armrest and cradling his paper cup filled with an Americano. Draco had decided to have a latte, the only muggle drink he was comfortable having. Potter was humming softly to some of the songs that were playing, while they were both quiet they were comfortable, even if Draco was somewhere he’d never thought to go. 

Eventually, he heard the distinctive opening of _You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth_, a favourite of his that had been played almost every day since he had taken the dive and branched out into the world of muggle songs. It was the one song he could have on repeat without being bored of it, in his head it was indescribable, it was an experience that could make him feel alive so many times. 

Sometime later their cups were drained, they felt sufficiently caffeinated and ready to hunt for a Misfits album. Potter hadn’t been able to shut up about this one album called _Walk Among Us_, it seemed to be his favourite the way that he talked about how the guitars seemed like poetry to his ears. He talked about how cathartic the songs were, they were all so angry, relieving at a time where he’s not allowed to relieve all the pent up anger he has inside with no useful outlet. Draco couldn’t help but snort at Potter, blaming his behaviour on how purely Gryffindor he was. 

Their conversation had been cut off, they had stumbled upon a small record stall, piled to the brim with albums in protective plastic casing and large stickers labelled with muggle pricing. Potter immediately started flicking through the boxes, looking at all the ones labelled rock and punk before making a triumphant noise. The album was strikingly pink, covered in UFOs with a large monster in the background. Draco was so confused, the way that Potter had described the album he was expecting something a lot darker, more blood and skulls than what he was currently seeing. He shrugged, even if he didn’t enjoy the album it was something he shared with Potter, a memory they could bond over and something that could prove to Draco he was definitely changing. 

\--

Back at Hogwarts, they both shuffled into the small back room. Draco had a small stack of albums with him, _Walk Among Us _sat on top of the pile, it’s bright case stood out against all the muted colours beneath it. 

Potter was visibly excited, a large smile that Draco had never been able to properly appreciate before, his eyes were slightly glazed like this was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Draco was curious with what had happened to Sirius’ old albums but he was too unsure to push the topic. Maybe they had too much emotional attachment for Potter to keep them? Maybe he kept them at Grimmauld Place for safekeeping? Draco was tempted to show Potter how to charm his own player so he could bring it here when Draco wasn’t around. 

They finally got onto the floor, albums were scattered on the floor so they could decide what to listen to first, there were only 5 to choose from but the new one stood out amongst the rest. He wasn’t sure why this wasn’t his first album nor his first time listening to a muggle song. Maybe it was the genre, maybe it was the look of the album, maybe it was the fact that this was Potter’s music. He was about to share a moment with someone he’d never had a truly happy memory with for most of his life and that in of itself was something to make him anticipate what Misfits was like. He needed to stop dwelling, just go with the moment and enjoy what he has to share. 

Draco reached for _Walk Among Us_, the case was battered in the corner from where it had been worn out by someone else. There was a large crease in the middle of it as well yet luckily the vinyl itself was still intact, he couldn’t see any scratches on it and felt relieved that he hadn’t put effort into getting something that he couldn’t even use. 

Eventually, he mustered up the willpower to start playing it, Potter sat a little way across from him, a noticeable gap that bothered Draco slightly, he was waiting for Draco’s reaction. He looked quite cute the way he was watching, his eyes were gleaming, the sun from the small window was shining over his face and emphasising how green his eyes truly were, His hair was a mess, as usual, yet this time it wasn’t bothersome. His fringe was ruffled and hanging low across his glasses, over his scar and obstructing some of his faces, Draco hated to admit how nice looking Potter actually could be, especially when he puts so little effort into his appearance. 

He snapped out of his little fanboy moment, Potter was definitely attractive but now was definitely not the time to be thinking about that type of thing, a sexuality crisis was not on the cards when he was meant to be listening to this new album. The album that Potter basically took him on a non-official date for. Merlin, he was being delusional.

The album itself was nice, not something he would have ever thought to listen to though. He felt enticed by the guitars, it was the same thing that drew him towards _Bat Out Of Hell_, that same taboo that came with listening to something his parents definitely would not approve of. There’s something that feels so indestructible about defiance, the adrenaline of hiding something you were raised to believe is wrong. It was when the song _Devils Whorehouse _came on that all those thoughts dissipated and all he could do was laugh. There was nothing he could feel rebellious about when listening to such a vulgar song, it just seemed so satirical and too out there to be properly considered breaking away from the way he was raised. 

“What’s funny?” Potter questioned. His voice was slightly muffled from the way he was slouched against the wall, still too far for Draco’s liking. 

“Sorry, it’s just _Devils Whorehouse_? Shocked me a little.” 

“You said absolutely nothing about the song _Hatebreeders_ but _Devils Whorehouse_ is the one that shocked you? You’ve got your priorities messed up,” Potter chuckled slightly. 

“_Hatebreeders _had a message! _Devils Whorehouse _is just a massive joke!” 

“Whatever you say, Draco.”

At that Draco turned more intently to Potter or Harry? Either way, he had said his name, something that he had hardly ever said before. It sounded strange but in a good way, unfamiliar by nature but not in practice. Draco could write prose on the way Harry’s lips moved around his name, perfectly enunciated as though he had said it a million times already. It was refreshing to hear, it scared him. 

“Draco?” He questioned. 

“I-oh, uhm,” Harry stuttered slightly.

“I don’t have a problem with it, just wondering why the sudden name change?” Draco pressed lightly. 

“Malfoy is for when you’re annoying, arrogant, selfish, impatient. You’re getting the gist, aren’t you? Anyway, you haven’t been any of those things lately. You were happy to spend half an hour in a small cafe drinking coffee with me, you’re letting me sit here and enjoy something with you. You’re not being a Malfoy- well not the sort of Malfoy I know anyway.” 

“Thanks for that… Harry.” 

It wasn’t until the conversation dropped that they both realised the LP had ended. No noise in the background, no guitar, nothing but the sound of their light breathing. 

“You’re choosing the next one,” Draco demanded. Harry shrugged, he picked up the slightly battered copy of _Bat Out Of Hell _and began to play it. When he came to sit back down he sat right next to Draco opposed to slumped by the wall where he was minutes ago. 

“I love this song,” Draco sighed. It was the most obvious thing in the world to anyone that knew Draco. His eyes would get that little bit larger, more joyful and full of wonder than they would’ve looked seconds ago, his mouth twitched and his hands would start tapping on his thighs. Anything he was passionate about was exhibited, no matter where that passion may have been found. 

“I can tell, you look like you’ve just been told this year we’re having a 2nd Christmas.” 

“I think this song makes me even happier than that would.” 

“Again with the messed up priorities, what’s the happiest you’ve ever been?” 

“Here, right now.”

“We’re just listening to music, I don’t get why that makes you happy.” 

“God you’re ignorant,” Draco sighed with a small smile spread across his face, “It’s because we’re here listening to music. We. Collective. It’s not me being alone and listening to music, I’m sharing it with someone who a year ago I would’ve called my arch-nemesis.” 

“So, you’re happy because I’m here?” Harry questioned, Draco’s face tinted red because while he had definitely said that, he hadn’t meant it in the way that he was insinuating. 

“Well, I mean yes-” 

“Draco, before you go find some justifiable reason that you said that, can I kiss you and then talk after?”

“I guess-” Was the last thing Draco said before Harry had started leaning in, to which Draco shrugged. He could do so much worse than Harry Potter. 

\-- 

It was then a week later, not exactly but close enough when they were interrupted in their room. Draco was straddling Harry on the floor, a new Sex Pistols LP playing in the background to their snogging session when the door slid open with an echo. 

“For Merlin’s sake, Harry can’t we get told anything?” Ron joked as he stepped into the room. Draco groaned and collapsed onto Harry’s body, his face laying right next to the hickey he’d barely given Harry. 

“Weasley, for someone who grew up with a large number of siblings I’d be sure you valued privacy,” Draco snarled. He was annoyed, Harry had been busy all week due to NEWTs and press meetings he was forced into doing to ‘help his public image’, whatever that meant. 

“I was just wondering where he’d gone, very secretive you know?” Weasley sighed, debating saying something, “Also congrats mate thought this was gonna happen at least 4 years ago. I’m gonna go tell ‘Mione now anyway since she was getting worried about you, just not gonna mention any names. See you at dinner.” 

“Your friends don’t pick good moments to intrude,” Draco sighed, he picked his body back up from where he had been laying down, his shirt was slightly crumpled and his hair wax had fallen out of place but overall he looked about as dishevelled as he did before Weasley’s surprise appearance. 

“Better than telling him at least,” Harry shrugged. Draco just playfully rolled his eyes and leant back down to continue their endeavour, Harry’s hands resting on his hips with _Seventeen_ going unlistened to behind them. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this took a while to right, for context, I had the rough outline for this when I was just about finished with Treacle Tart. But please if you enjoyed leave kudos, a comment, message me on tumblr (@mydrarrybullshit) or whatever else you can think of. Thank you so much for reading!


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